They desired my friend Will Honeycomb to bring me the reading of a new tragedy; it is called 'The Distressed Mother.' I must confess, though some days are passed since I enjoyed that entertainment, the passions of the several characters dwell strongly upon my imagination; and I congratulate the age, that they are at last to see truth and human life represented in the incidents which concern heroes and heroines.

The style of the play is such as becomes those of the first education, and the sentiments worthy those of the highest figure.

It was a most exquisite pleasure to me, to observe real tears drop from the eyes of those who had long made it their profession to dissemble affliction; and the player, who read, frequently threw down the book, until he had given vent to the humanity which rose in him at some irresistible touches of the imagined sorrow." [Footnote A: _Spectator_, No.

290, February 1, 1711-12.

This essay has been credited to Steele.] This picture of woe would hardly suit the theories of those hard-hearted players who believe that the true artist is never "carried away," or affected by the pathos of his part.